“I said the money’s in the account,” the devil slurred loud enough for me to make out his words.
“Good. Now go. I have to get my beauty sleep,” the monster answered.
I would come to learn the slight giggle in her tone meant she was flirting. I fisted the sheets and willed back the moisture that threatened to rush from my eyes. There was no use in crying. It would only spur the demon. And she was coming.
“Come on now. Clean yourself up. This room smells.”
When I didn’t move fast enough, a sharp pain landed across my back stealing my breath. I opened my eyes and spotted the cane she didn’t need for walking as she slapped it in her open palm. I practically fell out of the bed, but jumped to my feet when she arched the instrument of my destruction above her head.
She hadn’t always used an object to strike me. Now that I was nearly as tall as she was, it was more and more her go-to form of punishment.
“You’re such a nasty little boy. I don’t even understand what he sees in you. You better be grateful. If not for him, you’d be begging on the streets. You’d end up whoring yourself for scraps of food. And don’t fucking cry. You act like you’re the only one that has to suffer a little to live. Get over yourself and clean this fucking mess. Change your sheets too.”
She tapped her palm with the cane, and I remembered my manners.
“Yes, Mother.”
The crack across my cheek cleared my brain from the nightmare I’d been living to the real hell on earth.
“You sound like that crazy boy in that movie Psycho. Don’t call me that.”
Mother had been a slip that should have stayed in my head. It was something I chanted a thousand times, but knew better than to utter. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Better, and don’t think about sleeping until this room and that filthy body of yours is spotless.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I droned like the robot she’d programmed me to be.
It hurt to move, but I did my best to disguise my discomfort as I pulled the sheets from my bed. It may have been well past midnight, but the truth was, I would have slept on the hard floor than on those sheets anyway. Damn, if something like a raindrop fell from my eye before I could stop it.
35
Ashton
* * *
It felt like I was jerked into the world by my throat as my eyes popped open. I rubbed at a phantom ache around my neck, wondering when the past would stop plaguing me. The nightmare predated Sawyer intervening.
The call from my mother the night before must have brought it on. For the next few minutes, I replayed it in my head.
“Yep,” I’d said into the receiver.
“Don’t be a little shit, Ashton. That house was as much mine as yours.”
Mother.
“It was never yours,” I’d said, furious at myself for not checking who called before I answered.
“You wouldn’t be alive if not for me.”
I’d rubbed at my ear from her ear-splitting shriek. She had to be feeling the effects of being without money.
“That was your problem, not mine.”
“I could ruin your life,” she’d warned.
You already did, I thought. “I could do the same. You’d probably look good in an orange jumpsuit.”
“My lawyers will stop you.”
“Let them try. And while you’re pissing away the little money you might have left, remember you’re going to grow old with no one. Who’s going to take care of you then?”
I’d ended the call and put a block on her number.
The heels of my palms pressed into my eyes, annoyed I’d spoken to her. I pinched the bridge of my nose using pain to help wake me up.
I stretched as I assumed the upright position in my pod on the plane. I hadn’t used a private plane, the trip not as planned as I would have liked. I hated the pretense of first class, but I wouldn’t have survived in the cramped seats next to strangers who could incidentally touch me. It would have been a hell far worse than the one I’d survived all those years ago.
With only a duffle, I didn’t have to wait at baggage claim as I shook the remnants of sleep from my body. My driver was waiting with a sign baring my given name on it. I followed him to a black Mercedes sedan and assumed a rigid position in the back seat. This wasn’t a vacation, even though the Thanksgiving holiday loomed.
The Bohemian feel of Prague didn’t make the city any less like I’d stepped into a fairy-tale book. I was the furthest thing from being any sort of prince.
The private car I’d hired pulled up in front of a canopy that read Café Jewel Bar. I gave the driver a questioning look. He only exited to open my door and waved me toward the bar. Our communication had been stilted to gestures since I spoke no Czech and he very little English.
When I walked in, the space was smaller than I expected. I was immediately greeted by a friendly staff member who said my surname.
I nodded and followed him past the tiny bar area into a small space that served as the hotel lobby area. I dropped my leather duffle onto the sofa and stood in front of the small counter the guy moved around.
“It looks like you have a single room.”
I nodded. No matter how underwhelming the place looked so far, it would be fine.
“We have you in the Onyx room.” He handed me an honest to God key. I stared at it a second before following him up a steep winding staircase a couple of flights. There hadn’t been an elevator or at least one not big enough for people. It was a good thing I was in shape. The dizzying ascent could be hazardous to anyone not.
“Here we are,” the pleasant man said in a thick Czech accent.
The door was at the top of the flight of stairs. He held out his hand for the key, and I had to wonder why he’d given it to me in the first place if he was only going to ask for it back. Not wanting to make an issue of nothing, I dropped it into his open palm. He used it to open the door and held his hand out for me to enter.
I’d never felt so big in my life until I stepped into the tiny room. I took up the space between the door and the twin-sized bed that butted up against the wall. Then from the hall, as there was really not enough room for the both of us, he gestured to the left, my right, and I spied a small but updated bathroom at the end of the tiny room.
“There is a robe and toiletries.” I nodded. He pointed to the desk. “There is the remote to control the heat or A/C, whatever you prefer.”
His congenial smile was the last he gave before disappearing down the stairs. I closed the door to the room before inspecting my accommodations.
Despite the lack of square footage, the room was decorated with luxuries. I could see why it was described as a boutique hotel. Some might find the room claustrophobic. Sadly, I enjoyed the small space. When one was alone, a larger area would only accentuate that fact.
I dropped my bag onto the desk that sat opposite the bed, leaving a single path to the only window in the room. I leaned my forearm on the glass, looking down at the cobblestone streets, and wondered if this could be my future home. Time would tell as I would be here a few days through the holiday.
That only brought my mind back to why I’d come here in the first place. The cryptic message I’d been given by the Club from the woman with the scrap of paper to the invitation. When I’d opened the black envelope, it read…
How can you trust us when you can’t trust yourself? Go to Prague and get a taste of our reach. We can give you the answers you seek when no one else can.
What did they want me to know and why? The exclusive group didn’t need me. I was a nobody whose future didn’t include politics or the CEO position for any Fortune 500 companies. I was a writer. If not for my trust fund, I’d be considered a starving artist. It couldn’t be money they wanted.
I slipped the scrap of paper from my pocket and stared at it again. There was a number. I hadn’t yet called it, and wasn’t sure what I was going to do despite making the trip here. With no home to go to and Sawyer spending his
holiday with someone else, there weren’t better options.
The bed was surprisingly firm and didn’t completely collapse under my weight as I left the view in favor of staring at the wall. I’d avoided the black-framed mirror over the bed, not wanting to see the face that looked so much like my mother’s.
I leaned back to the wall and rested my arm on a feathery soft, black cylindrical pillow. It was then I noticed that all the accents in the room, even the tile I could see into the bathroom, were black. Made sense, I was in the Onyx room. It might have been fate, considering my mood matched the décor.
How had I gotten myself to this point? Why had fate placed me in the hands of a sadistic mother? Had the apple fallen far from the tree? I was so fucked up, the world would be better off without me. Too bad I no longer saw death as an option. I had to live if nothing else than to prove to that crazy woman that she no longer controlled my life. She didn’t think I could be anything, and that was what drove me now.
Before I could move forward, I needed to know the past. There had to be something there that could make sense of the whys of things. I put my cell on the desk and reached for the phone instead. I studied the numbers a second longer before placing the call.
The meeting was set at a smoky bar across the street in a half an hour. I made the trek there long before then. I was ushered to a table in the back past a display of very appetizing desserts and tried to convey I was waiting on someone. When the guy nodded like he understood, I let it go.
The place wasn’t packed, but many of the tables were taken. I took that as a good sign as I perused the menu.
“Ashton.”
I glanced up to find a thin woman who appeared roughly the same age as my mother. She stood behind the empty chair across from me. I nodded and began to stand. Mother hadn’t taught me a lot, but she did stress manners.
She tucked a strand of lifeless brown hair behind her ear as I held the chair out for her. Despite time, which hadn’t been very kind, I could see that she had once been very beautiful.
When I sat, she said, “You look very much like her.”
Her saying that only reminded me why I hated my appearance so much.
“My mother?”
She smiled. “Yes,” she said shyly as her cheeks pinkened.
I wasn’t sure where her embarrassment came from, but was certain at some point I would discover why.
“Sorry, I’m Susanna.”
We exchanged a quick, limp handshake before I drilled her for the reason I was there.
“How did you know her, my mother?”
Some of her pleasant expression faded. “We met when she attended college, yes?”
I knew very little about the woman who gave me life. She wasn’t exactly chatty with me. I shrugged and she nodded as if she understood. I wanted to rush her, eager for the mystery of Mother to be exploited. She had every advantage over me. Though I spent our time in that house either as a victim or housemate, she knew my habits more than I knew about hers.
The waiter came over to take our order. My appetite had been lost the moment the woman sat down. I ordered a drink and tried something with Becherovka in it. After she ordered in her native tongue, leaving me to guess what it was, I pushed ahead.
“You mentioned attending college with my mother.”
The woman across me looked as though her life was hard. She didn’t seem like a college graduate. For now, I would give her the benefit of the doubt.
“She did. I didn’t.”
When she didn’t elaborate, I kept probing, trying not to get frustrated with the dribble of information she was giving me. I kept hanging onto the fact that I’d been led here for a reason.
“So, how did you meet her?”
She glanced out the large panes of glass that were embedded in the grand doors that faced the street. My guess was in the warmer months, those doors would be opened to let fresh air in.
“We met at a job.”
The last word came out clipped and only heightened her accent. She’d practically spat the word out.
I clenched my jaw, wanting to rush her. I held back because the fragile woman before me looked like she would wilt and close into herself if I let loose on the spray of curse words I wanted to shout.
I leaned forward in my seat. “You didn’t exactly seem surprised to get my call. I suspect you were waiting for it.” She nodded. “I assume there’s something you are supposed to tell me.”
She blinked and I sat back as water pooled in her eyes. She trembled as she wiped the offending moisture away. Then she faced me squarely in the eye, leaving me to feel sorry for her.
“She and I worked in the same business.”
I suspected what it was even before she said it. Mother was good at one thing as far as I saw.
“Sex,” I supplied.
Her curt nod and quick glance away were the confirmation of her shame.
“And,” I said, trying to convey to her that I held no judgment. I was only here to learn why I was here.
She jerked her head back and surveyed me. I shrugged, hoping to relieve her of whatever guilt she felt. She cleared her throat and continued.
“She was in it to pay for college or so she told me. I—I had other reasons.” She didn’t explain and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my business. We all had our crosses to bear.
I clasped my hands on my lap and tried to be patient with her slow as molasses tale.
“What does this have to do with me?” I challenged.
“You’re proof that her plan worked.”
Anything I might have said died in my throat. “Plan,” I uttered, not exactly surprised, but yeah a little.
She blew out a breath and told me a version of the story Mother had already shared with me. Her father had a debt to his boss, and Mother ended up the payment.
I wanted to feel sorry for her, but I couldn’t. Instead of protecting me from a similar fate, she inflicted the same horror on me.
Susanna’s flat eyes refocused on me. “I remember thinking she was about to cry, after telling the story, but she laughed. I’ll never forget the scary smile that formed on her face. She said it wasn’t all bad after the first time. Eventually, the boss man brought her little gifts or gave her money. That’s how she learned the value of pussy.”
Disgust rather than sorrow filled my veins. Her father had sold her and she had sold me. We were a class of monsters that didn’t need to breed.
“You mentioned a plan,” I said to get her back on track.
There was nothing she could say to soften my heart toward the woman who bore me.
“It started when we were sent to work a party.” Her eyes cut over to mine. “That’s the first time she met your father.”
I didn’t want to react, but I did. I leaned back in the seat as if I could put distance between us despite the wall behind me.
“You look like him too,” she said.
“You know my father.”
She nodded. “I’ll never forgot how lost he looked at that party. We girls tried to cheer him up, but he turned us down.”
Up until that point, I’d just assumed things about my parents, like my father’s infidelity. Yes, I knew Mother had probably manipulated the situation, but it sounded like a hell of a lot more if I was here.
“There’s a but, right?” I asked.
Her head shook slowly side to side. “No, Victoria tried too and failed.”
When my mouth hung open, she continued. “Like I said, she had a plan and almost gloated about it.” She paused a beat. “She’d found out that his wife was going through uterine cancer treatment and decided to exploit that. She did everything she could to research him. She was obsessed to have his child when she learned that his wife wouldn’t be able to. I got the feeling she’d been searching for the right rich guy she could marry.”
This wasn’t new information. My mother had proven herself to be an opportunist at every turn.
“It took a while, but she was determined t
o sleep with him. Apparently, her scheme worked.”
The waiter came over and put a dinner plate in front of her. He placed my drink down, which I’d completely forgotten about. When he left, she pushed her fork around the food as I picked up my highball glass.
“Weeks later she was so excited, she bragged she’d finally gotten him into bed. She laughed when she admitted how apologetic your father had been about it. He took the blame, saying he’d had too much to drink. He claimed he’d never cheated on his wife and wouldn’t do it again.”
For so long, I hated the guy, only to learn he’d been somewhat of a victim of Mother’s manipulations as I had.
“And she got pregnant?”
She shrugged, but her eyes landed on me. “I moved back here shortly after. But looking at you, I guess so.”
It wasn’t hard to believe, but why had someone wanted me to know this? Had my father orchestrated this meeting? His sudden interest in my life and the timing of this information didn’t sit well with me. He wanted me in his life, so he claimed. He was running for president. And here I was.
Susanna began eating her food as I received a text.
Willow sent me a text with a turkey emoji and a couple of grinning faces.
36
Ashton
* * *
The call I made wasn’t one I expected. My hand hung in the air, prepared to knock on an unfamiliar door. What was I doing? Why was I here?
I’d barely pulled back from my quick two taps against the door when it opened.
The woman who stood before me contrasted Susanna in every way. The Czech woman had been a tall waif. The female in the doorway with a grand staircase behind her was petite and carried just enough weight not to be considered fat, but far from thin.
“Ashton,” she greeted. “Please come in.”
I stepped inside a foyer with high ceilings and a museum-worthy chandelier. Before I could look around, I met the woman’s eyes as she took my measure.
Craving Dragonflies Page 18
